Fatherhood
by SibylSofiana
Summary: One-shot. Belgarion gets some insights on fatherhood from an unlikely source -- Relg. Set in 5378, a few months after the birth of Geran.


**Author's Note:**

I don't own Belgariad or Malloreon. David Eddings does. Or did. Rest in peace, sir.

Something I wrote for Father's Day, which I didn't get to post on time because it wasn't ready. After a little polishing, here it is. **Belated Happy Father's Day, Relg.**

**Isle of the Winds**

**5378**

Riva was just a little too loud for my comfort. From the time the ship arrived at the harbor to the time we were ushered into the Citadel, I'd been surrounded by a lot of noise and revelry. But I could hardly fault them… the kingdom of Riva finally had its heir. In the past, such things would be of no import to me… but then again, things change.

I could only sigh in relief when I reached my quarters in safety. The coolness and the quiet were very welcome, as were the simple fruit and water left on the side table. After my prayers, I took some of the refreshment and lay back against the simple pallet that was my bed, taking some rest before I was summoned.

~0~0~0~0~0~

I held myself back a little from the crowd of Rivan nobles that I found myself in company with on the way to the royal nursery. On entering, I stepped aside toward the shadier part of the rooms – the sun was just a little too bright against the windows. Everybody was busy paying court over Ce'Nedra and the little prince. I probably should have asked for a private audience, but I did not want too appear too presumptuous.

And then to my surprise, I found myself beside Belgarion. He was standing a little way away from the crowd as well, just behind the columns, and nobody had noticed him at the moment. He suddenly turned his head and saw me. His eyes widened with surprise, delight and more than a little welcome.

"_Yad ho, Relg. Groja UL_."

"_Yad ho, Belgarion. Groja UL_." The ritual phrase swept over me like a comforting balm, and I passed a hand over my brow in formal greeting.

"Your Majesty," I gave a quick bow, but he shook his head.

"Just Garion, Relg."

I nodded, to humor him.

He'd grown taller, and his face reflected a maturity that had come over the years, in his struggle to be a good king. But if you didn't know him at all, and if he hadn't worn his blue doublet with his coronet today, Belgarion would be ordinary looking. I could still see much of young man he had been, this young man who had been kind and patient to a man who had been in a serious crisis of faith.

"It's been a while, Relg." I could see that Belgarion restrained himself from clapping a hand on my shoulder, knowing how I felt about people touching me. But he shouldn't have bothered -- I didn't mind _too_ much, not anymore.

"I'm glad you were able to visit. How are Taiba and the children?"

"They're quite well, and Taiba sends you and Ce'Nedra her best wishes for your firstborn and heir. I passed by Prolgu on the way here, and the Gorim send his regards as well, along with some news." I fumbled with my satchel, bringing out a small package and handing it to Belgarion.

"I also brought this as a gift, just something I made, although I don't think Prince Geran ought to try his teeth on it."

I'd crafted a dainty rattle that gave a little tinkling sound as Belgarion turned it over to inspect it. I'd shaped it with metal I'd taken from the caves in Prolgu and worked in some crystals that gave a little shine even in the shadows.

"This is exquisite workmanship, Relg." Belgarion exclaimed, touching the intricate metalwork. "Thank you. If you ever decide to trade some of your work, just tell me." He smiled. "If you have the time, I could introduce you to a friend of mine who's a glass artisan – he does beautiful work as well."

He wrapped up the gift and instead of going over to Ce'Nedra and making his presence felt to the Rivan nobles, he quietly motioned to an attendant to take the gift over to Ce'Nedra discreetly. Nodding his thanks, he turned back to me.

"Grandfather says that you've already moved to Maragor."

"Yes." I didn't tell him that I didn't really have any choice in the matter. I learned the hard way that one never really goes against the wishes of any God.

Lord Mara had taken Taiba and the children under His wing -- even Tarc, who was dedicated to UL. After letting us bide our time in Prolgu, he finally asked Taiba to move our growing family to Maragor, and move we did. And under His watchful eye, we prospered in our own quiet way.

When one is used to living in Prolgu in the dark, it's hard to adjust to all that light – and the sky still terrifies me sometimes. But thankfully, Maragor is all mists and shadow, and so it has been easier to adjust.

Thanks to Lord Mara, my growing family doesn't want for anything. I've been raising some goats, and doing a bit of farming. But if I can't grow it or raise it, whatever I need I just buy with the gold that's lying around in the riverbeds.

We're the only ones living in Maragor, although we often encounter the monks of Mar Terrin, who are amazed that we have been spared Lord Mara's wrath. They give Taiba a respectful and wide berth – she is after all a living remnant of a people their ancestors had slaughtered centuries before. There are also occasionally some mad Tolnedrans, mostly trappers and gold hunters, who thought that the curse had been lifted when we moved to Maragor. When I find them gibbering and screaming near the old city, I gently lead them out and leave them to the tender mercies of the monks.

When I come out from my reverie, I find that the young king has also been lost in his thoughts, pondering a question. It was a while before he finally posed it to me.

"Relg…is it hard to be a father?"

It was my turn to be silent as I pondered this question.

If it had been someone other than Belgarion who'd been asking this question, they would not have meant it well… they would have asked, while their eyes glinted with laughter and mischief – for they'd have known I had led an ascetic life. They would laugh at my imagined attempts at relations with my wife, and laughed at my growing family… so how did Taiba manage that?!

But perhaps I wronged them… I didn't know them as well as I should. Even if only Belgarion had shown patience and kindness all those years before, he knew the others were the same in their own way.

I had been quiet all this time, but knowing me, Belgarion only waited patiently.

Was it hard to be a father?

Memories tumbled inside my brain, offering themselves up in reply:

I remember how I trembled when I held Tarc in my arms in the darkness of Prolgu – he was like a light that was shining so bright that I could barely look at him, with his eyes so blue as the sky that still terrified me. But then he held my index finger with his little hand… and slept, his tiny head on my shoulder, while I held my breath, afraid of waking him up…

I remember when Tarc was older and starting to walk, we went around the caves, and he was holding my hand, pulling me towards the glittering crystal, while I tried to shade my eyes and pull a little bit back, but he would have not of it, and he would laugh and talk… with me, with Taiba, with the Gorim, with the Ulgo girls… even with UL.

I remember pulling him out of cave walls, of soothing his skinned knees, and playing with him with bits of stones and metal, fashioning him some toys…

I remember when Reba was born, and she smiled and cooed and fluttered while I grew flustered, and Tarc pulled me to her to kiss her downy cheek…

I remember cradling Tarc and Reba in my arms as we waited for Mira to be born… I could remember their excitement at the birth of their new sister, a new playmate… I could remember my amazement as Taiba presented me with Tira and Kira, my new twin daughters, named after the saintly men who were Belgarath's brothers…

I remember feeling shocked at being surrounded with all these little people who gazed at me with love and affection, and never hesitated to give me hugs and moist kisses even in the midst of my prayers…

I remember telling my wide-eyed children the stories from the Book of Ulgo, with the Gorim and Taiba listening quietly, and then laughing at my efforts to put them to sleep with it. I am sure UL was laughing as well.

I remember as well the sleepless nights, the lack of concentration, the lack of time for prayers, the childish voices raised in uproar, the disruptions to my quiet time with Taiba…

And I said as much to Belgarion, who groaned a little as he heard my tale, glancing at his own family in consternation.

"And I'm only just starting!"

He jumped as he felt a commiserating pat on his shoulder. It is a little awkward, but I am getting used to these physical expressions. And for someone whose face used to be so forbidding (or so Taiba tells me), I find myself giving Belgarion a little grin.

"It is hard being a father, but it is very much worth it."

Belgarion's eyes widen, but as he looks at my face something there gives him some assurance.

"You've changed, Relg."

I can only nod in agreement.

"Thank UL."


End file.
